“Would you like to update the healthcare proxy Mr. Holloway filed last fall?”

While my mother lay in post-op on heavy narcotics, Derek had slid a pen into her hand and taken legal control of her medical decisions. We voided it and executed a new one in the car with a mobile notary.

Driving back, my mother watched the window. “He wasn’t always like this, Iris. He used to carry my groceries when he was little.”

“I know, Mom. I’m not punishing the nine-year-old who carried your groceries. I’m stopping the grown man who took your bedroom.”

At 5:05 we pulled into the driveway. Melissa was on the porch with her arms crossed. “Where have you two been? The patio isn’t prepped.”

I got out of the car. “Mom’s off the clock tonight,” I said, and walked past her into my house.